


day 1: giving attention

by orphan_account



Series: the twelve days of shipmas (giving edition) [1]
Category: UNIQ (Band)
Genre: M/M, Marking, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 09:24:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8839246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: wenhan may like attention but he craves seungyoun's





	

**Author's Note:**

> twelve days of shipmas challenge for u-n-i-fics.tumblr.com
> 
> full prompt list on my tumblr

they’ve only been _them_ for a month and yet it only takes a poor attempt at a mandarin lesson in the confines of wenhan’s hard-won dorm room for seungyoun’s hands to start wandering. wenhan makes a valiant attempt to rein them in: a throaty harrumph in a badly disguised attempt to hide giggles and kitten-like batting at the wandering touch slipping past the collar of his shirt. seungyoun has never been one to give up though, born with a stubborn persistence that could wear down mountains and xuan’s indefinite patience. it’s not long before he has his left hand splayed against the warm skin of wenhan’s stomach, massaging careful circles with his thumb under the cotton. the soft puffs of breath against of the shell of wenhan’s ear helps none either as seungyoun tries to get the intonations of _出租车_ just right.

“ _出_ ” wenhan purses his lips into an exaggerated ‘o’ shape, “like you’re singing or whistling.”

“ _出_ ” seungyoun repeats thoughtfully, dipping his face down to the crook of wenhan’s neck. he squirms in seungyoun’s hold at the new proximity though that’s not to say sitting with his back pressed along the line of seungyoun’s front wasn't already close enough, “ _出_ ”.

he punctuates his attempt with a kiss right underneath wenhan’s ear, the scrape of teeth like a promise.

“ _租_ ” wenhan says like the totally not horny twenty-two year old he is though the sudden fogginess of his brain would testify against him.

“ _租_ ” seungyoun mumbles into the column of his throat, migrating lower to the exact junction of shoulder and neck.

“ _车_ \- oh shit,” wenhan’s eyes practically roll to the back of his head when seungyoun hums uncaringly and sucks hard on the patch of skin, digging his teeth in hard enough to prompt some inky blue in the morning, “again,” he slaps seungyoun’s thigh urgently and lets his head loll to the side for easier access, “fuck, there again.”

“didn’t know you liked cars so much.” seungyoun cackles and wenhan slaps his thigh again, followed up by a warning squeeze to his knee. he can feel a tent forming in his boxers and this isn’t the time for seungyoun’s stupid brand of humour goddamnit there’s a boyfriend in need.

he says as much but in fewer words, whirling around to crash his lips against seungyoun’s. the look on seungyoun’s face is probably priceless, he imagines, at least five hundred yuan for blackmail purposes to sungjoo on a good day. there’s not much time to focus on these get-rich-quick schemes though and not much incentive either. the way seungyoun’s taking to cupping his face in one hand and digging his thumb into the blooming mark left behind is doing wonders for distraction, needy whines and guttural moaning drenching the air between them with the smell of arousal. the thought of red and blue and purple marking up his skin tomorrow and the day after and the day after sends tingles to wenhan’s toes and he doesn’t have to sneak a look at his crotch to know that he’ll have to switch boxers soon.

this, wenhan thinks, is where he wants to be. all the time. no exceptions.

“i’m guessing,” seungyoun pulls away from wenhan’s mouth, lips puffy and red, covered in saliva. there’s a dazed look in his eyes, second only to lust and want and a billion other things wenhan can’t put a name to in any language he speaks, “this is okay?”

he presses his knuckle to the beginnings of the bruise, twisting it in a little to agitate the spot and wenhan wants to scream that yes, this is very much okay but his brain won’t let him, making him resort to a whimper and relentless nodding. he gives up and snakes a hand around to the back of seungyoun’s head, burying his grasp in the short prickly hairs at the nape of seungyoun’s neck that have barely escaped from bleach damage.

“you can,” he croaks out and drags seungyoun’s head closer to the spot, “y’know.”

“okay,” seungyoun states simply but satisfies himself with reaching over further and pressing kisses to the peek of collarbone over wenhan’s shirt to the melody of wenhan’s increasing despair and desperation, “what about this though?”

he snaps the elastic of wenhan’s boxers, leaving a sting and yet another mark behind. this one will fade quick though, unlike the unarticulated promise lying behind seungyoun’s words.

“i fucking - gah,” wenhan tries not to let himself explode into a ball of sexually-frustrated fury as he lets slip into a stream of chinese profanity his mother would wash his mouth out with soap for, scrambling around in seungyoun’s hold trying to kick off his boxers, “yes, ok? yes to everything just give me your mouth, your hand or i swear - ”

“you should teach me more swearwords,” seungyoun interrupts in a low growl and thrusts up against the swell of his ass, the bulge of his erection hard to ignore in wenhan's head even through the pleasure of a clumsy handjob. seungyoun kisses the hickey that he's created, presses his tongue to it and applies pressure, swiping his thumb over the wet head of wenhan’s cock. the result is a sob, torn viscerally from wenhan’s chest as he mutters feverishly in chinese and arches into seungyoun’s touch, chest heaving with short breaths.

he’s getting close, it’s all in the curl of his toes and the raggedness of his breathing too loud in his ears over the wet noises of seungyoun mouthing at his neck. somewhere at the back of his mind he knows he should be ashamed to last only this long but he’ll plead the extenuating circumstance of cho seungyoun if he’s ever dragged to court.

“fuck,” he pants and wrenches his eyes open, twisting his face around to look seungyoun straight in the eye, “m-make me come.”

all it takes is seungyoun nipping at his bottom lip with renewed fervour and a rough swipe at the head of his cock and he’s gone, spilling over his stomach and seungyoun’s hand with a groan that reverberates around the chamber of their sealed mouths. he’s pretty sure his boyfriend follows suit right after, twitching violently before he droops over wenhan’s shoulder like a melting ice cream. he doesn’t know what for sure happens in that period following but what they definitely don’t do is move. there’s a stickiness he can feel seeping through the sweatpants that seungyoun wore tonight and with the cum drying on his stomach, it's hardly pleasant. still, there’s a sort of peace that passes between them, settling thumping hearts and halting the thoughts racing pell-mell through their minds.

wenhan shuts his eyes and lets himself bask in it, this pseudo calm where he’s the centre of seungyoun’s world, not the studio or the other members or the loyal crew that seungyoun’s scraped together all by himself. sure, he’s got a few scripts piled up on his metaphorical desk but he tells himself it’s just one distraction compared to seungyoun’s three thousand hundred projects so who’s in the wrong here. it’s selfish, god it’s selfish that he wants seungyoun’s attention all to himself. always the attention whore, sungjoo jokes but wenhan can’t even deny it. on days like these though, he can remind himself that in the moments where it counts, he has seungyoun's love and maybe the mark that will be purple and stark by the morning will remind him for the infinite tomorrows.

seungyoun mumbles something under his breath.

wenhan slurs something with a question mark on the end.

“出租车.”

he cracks a smile. it’s not perfect but it’s getting there.


End file.
